The smell of smoke breaks her from her reverie. She looks down and sees the charred remains of tonights dinner smoking on the stove.
"Shit." She whispers under her breath. She grabs the pan's iron handle and yelps, bringing back her hand and dropping the food onto the floor with a loud thud. She bends down and quickly tries to scrape the food back into the pan while nurturing her burnt hand. The sound of clicking heels alerts her that someone heard her and is coming. The footsteps stop and a large shadow looms over her head.
She looks up and meets her hateful glare. A vein is popping out on her forehead and her fists are shaking with rage.
"Greg!" she calls. "The mutt ruined dinner! Again!" Emma knows that once Greg comes she's doomed. Heavy footsteps approach and stop next to his wife. He looks at his wife. "Thank you Tamara." Turning his attention towards the mess on the floor he angrily spits out "You ruined dinner." He looks down with malevolent glee at the girl cowering on the floor.
"Stand up!" Greg yells. She does as told.
He raises his arm. A slap, which resounds throughout the kitchen, sends her to the ground. He lifts his foot and crashes it down on her arm. He yells at her to get out, that she's nothing but a worthless mutt.
She stands and runs out the back door as fast as she can. She takes off into the forest behind her house, only slowing down when the house is no longer in view. She walks halfway into the forest before she finds her tent. Soon after she first moved she set up a tent in case she ever needed to get away, and in moments like this she's never been more grateful that she did.
Once inside her tent she begins to clean her burnt hand with a first-aid kit she 'borrowed'. A few minutes later she hears the soft crunching of leaves from a few feet away. She pokes her head out of the tent and looks around seeing only trees.
"Hello?" she asks, her voice wavering. "Is someone there?" She's worried that Greg has found where she runs off to.
"Hello?" a voice calls to her right. She steps out of the tent to see who is lurking in her woods. She stops short when she sees a young boy who looks to be her age staring at her with wonder.
"What do you want?" she bitterly asks. He visibly tenses and she inwardly smirks, proud that she can make someone fear her.
"I… I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I was just walking around the woods and came across your tent. I… I thought maybe a camper left it here. Please I mean no harm." he stammers out quickly. He extends his hand towards her, and she flinches. He pulls back his hand, a look of confusion on his face.
"My names Henry. Henry Mills." he states.
"Emma," she quietly says. "Swan." They both stand there in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, Henry scratching the back of his head. Finally, he breaks the silence.
"So what are you doing out here in a tent?"
She doesn't know why, but something tells her that she can trust him, she tells the truth. "Home isn't too great at the moment." he nods as if in understanding. The silence is broken by the sound of a text notification on his phone. He types out a reply and tells her that he has to go home for dinner. He must notice her look crestfallen at the thought of being alone again because he invites her to join them. She politely declines telling him that she is fine where she is and doesn't need his pity. He assures her that it isn't out of pity, he just wants to help her, and asks again.
Annoyed with his persistence Emma bitterly spits out "Just leave me alone and run on home to your mommy." Henry reluctantly leaves and once he's out of sight she returns to her tent.
Later that night, while trying to pass time, she hears a noise from the bushes. Before she can react a voice calls out.
"It's just me, Henry." Emma relaxes and steps outside the tent. Standing there with a goofy smile on his face, holding a large food container, is Henry.
"I thought I told you to leave me alone." she bitterly states.
"I figured you might be hungry so I brought you some leftovers from dinner." She hesitates before reaching out and grabbing the container from him.
He scratches the back of his head, a habit she's noticed, and begins to turn to leave.
"Wait." Emma calls out, freezing him in place. "Thank you." she quietly says.
"Your welcome." he smiles then continues walking home. She turns around and recedes into her tent, now with a meal. She opens up the container and sees two slices of pepperoni pizza, and a small piece of garlic bread. She deeply inhales the delicious smells and quickly stuffs herself with the food. Once she has eaten every last crumb she places the container by the end of her sleeping bag. As it is getting late outside, Emma decides to call it a night and try to sleep. She moves everything to the edges of the tent and unzips her sleeping bag, crawling between the flannel sheets. She turns off the lantern by her head and allows the far cries from wolves and the occasional hoot of an owl to lull her into sleep.
Emma wakes abruptly to a rustling outside her tent. She turns on her lantern and sees a large shadow by the tent opening. She freezes. Slowly, the zipper is undone and a large hand grabs the wall of the tent.
"This is a nice setup you got here." the voice slurs, telling her it is worse than she thought. Greg found her. "Why hello beautiful." a wicked grin comes across his face as it emerges through the tent flap. Emma scurries towards the back of the tent, putting as much space between Greg and herself as possible.
"Awe isn't that just the sweetest, eh? Did the big, bad man scare the little girl?." he taunts.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Emma spits out, glaring at him.
"Well I had a wonderful night thank you for asking." he says sarcastically. She continues to glare hoping that the will get the message and leave. He ignores her and looks around the tent, inspecting objects as he looks. He picks up the first-aid kit and turns in over in his hand. Written on the back is 'G.M.' Greg Mendell. His head snaps up, his brown eyes filled with rage.
"Greg Mendell?" he says through clenched teeth. "Greg. Mendell!" he yells. Emma tries to take a step back and falls into the tent wall.
"You stole this from me!" Greg yells. "What else have you been stealing. Huh?" he begins picking up anything he can reach. "Did you take this too? And this? How about this?" With each words he inches closer to her, until she can smell the booze on his breath.
"Answer me girl!" he screams.
"I…I never-" she gets cut off by a hand smacking her across her cheek.
"How dare you." Greg punches her in the stomach, making her hunch over in pain. He knocks her to the ground and stomps on her leg with his boot. Emma cries out in agony. Another stomp to her leg, a crack sounding throughout the tent. Tears threaten to escape with each kick to her leg, but she will not cry. That would be showing weakness, and she is anything but weak.
Once Greg seems satisfied with the damage, he bends over and begins punching her in the stomach.
"I hope this teaches you to never steal from me again. Mutt." he spits out. With one final blow square in her jaw, Greg stands up and stumbles out of the tent. Emma tries to stand up but winces in pain and collapses. She tentatively raises her hand to her lip and pulls it back, blood coating her fingertips, before the blackness consumes her.